Through The Cold
by SynysterLovely
Summary: A tale of my Nord Dovahkiin Iskyla moving past what's happened to her and discovering her destiny and just how tied she is to the fact of Skyrim and the Empire itself. Despite it all she manages to find love even after she has sworn to never love again.


**A/N This is my first foray into Skyrim fanfiction writing. I hope you all like it. I had this posted a few days ago but I had written it in a haste so I pulled it down to rewrite it and this is the first chapter again. I hope you all like it! I own the character of Iskyla, but I don't own Farkas or any of the other Elder Scrolls characters or the universe.**

A deep sigh escaped my control as I headed out into the wilderness of Whiterun Hold. My job is to kill a group of bandits that had holed themselves up in some cave not far from Whiterun itself. It was just another of the menial jobs that Farkas and the others give out if there isn't something more important to do. It's an annoying job, but nothing I can't handle. I've been on many much more dangerous missions, but trekking out into the middle of nowhere doesn't exactly top my list of things I want to be doing today.

Subconsciously, I rubbed my bare arms. I really disliked the way steel armor is made. Why does it offer no protection for the arms? It always makes me nervous in a fight. A stray arrow can come flying out of nowhere and hit me in the arm possibly rendering that arm useless in a fight. It's not safe for a sword fighter. This was the main reason I even took this job, apart from being bored of sitting around Jorrvaskr waiting for an important job to come up. I'm three hundred gold short for a brand new set of armor that would actually protect my whole body as opposed to what the steel armor covers. I would love a set of wolf armor, but I would not feel right purchasing it unless I was made a member of the Circle.

The Circle was elusive and I really wonder what they do differently in the Circle from the rest of the Companions. It seemed to be made up of the older members, the ones who all got their own rooms. I thought there were supposed to be no leaders in the Companions, but it sure seems like there are. The setup is different from what I truly expected when I signed up.

A low growling pulled me from my thoughts. A wolf came running down the short hill towards where I stood. I drew my bow and notched an arrow. In a matter of seconds, the wolf was lying dead on the ground before me, an arrow lodged in its skull. The pests weren't even worth the cost of their pelts.

The sun climbed higher in the sky as I made my way. The cave sat on the border between Whiterun Hold and The Pale. I could see the mountains that the cave resided in not too far ahead of me. I was making decent time for spending more time in my head than on where I am going. I quickened my pace as the mountains loomed ever closer.

Before long, I found myself nearing the cave that was my target. A few lone bandits stood outside, no doubt keeping guard for whatever they deemed important enough to keep inside the cave. There were three bandits that I could see. There was a ledge above the cave that could host another bandit, but there was no way to see from this far down. I crouched down behind a rock next to the path that lead up to the cave. The three bandits were men, two Nords and a Redguard. The Nords both had a single axe and the Redguard had an iron sword. I could try to pick them off with my bow, or I could use my swords. I'm much better with my swords, but I don't know if I feel like going head on against three men.

I pulled out my bow and notched an arrow. Taking aim, I released the string and let the arrow fly. It narrowly missed the Nord closest to the door. They began frantically searching for the source of the stray arrow. I notched another arrow and let it shoot, it hit the other Nord in the arm. I hoped it was his strong arm. The Redguard quickly came around the corner and spotted me.

"Over here!" he yelled and the other two came flying down the path. Gods be damned! I drew my swords and advanced on the dark skinned man. He had little skill with his blade and I outmatched him greatly. I easily blocked his first attack and the sharp clang of metal filled the air. Using the sword in my weak arm, I slashed towards where he had left himself open and pierced through his leather armor digging the steel deep into his ribcage. He let out a garbled noise before slipping off my blade and onto the ground.

The other two were gaining ground quickly. The first Nord reached me with his axe raised. I managed to move out of the way quick enough to dodge his powerful blow. He paused for a moment looking me over.

"Look!" he suddenly called out, catching me off guard. "She's a woman! Get her!" Confusion filled me but I did not let that get in the way of what I needed to do. While he was paying more attention to his comrades, I drove my Blades sword through his soft leather armor and into his chest. In my moment of focus, some caused a sharp pain in my arm. I looked down and saw an arrow coming from my unprotected skin. Dammit!

The world around me was quickly becoming fuzzy. Poison! The damned arrow was poisoned! My reflexes slowed and I dove into my pack hoping to grasp a bottle of potion to counteract the effects. My fingers rummaged around but they lacked the strength to grasp anything. The world tilted and my body gave way to unconsciousness.

I groaned as I felt my body fight its way back into consciousness. I didn't want to go back to the conscious world just yet but my body felt otherwise. Feeling slowly made its way back into my limbs despite my will to just fade back into the blackness of sleep. Whatever I am laying on is cold and hard. Probably just a stone floor or rock. Memories of what had happened before my unconsciousness began to snake their way into my mind again. I groaned inwardly at the stupidity of the entire situation. My greatest fears with my armor had been realized, and now look where I am.

I pushed myself up onto my elbows and forced myself into a sitting position. My head swam and threatened to send me into unconsciousness again. Opening my eyes, I realized that I was not longer wearing my armor. Rags adorned my body instead of clothes or armor. It is clear that I am a prisoner. How could I let myself become prisoner to the bandits I was sent here to kill? I ground the heel of my palm into my forehead in sheer frustration.

Resigning, I took in my surroundings. I sat in a small rectangular cage. The only other thing in the cage was a small bed at the other end from the door. I had been rather unceremoniously dumped on the floor just inside the door. I guess it wasn't worth the effort to put me on the bed that was three more feet away. I huffed and examined my arm. It was bandaged up nicely which was a bonus. It lightly throbbed and was a pain I could simply ignore.

Looking past the bars of the cage I was sitting in, the room was fairly small. It was definitely the interior of a cave, so I was probably just dragged into the same cave and not taken somewhere else. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner filled with various types of weapons and armors. It seems kind of dumb to put weapons in the same room as a prisoner. Next to the shelf was a small table with a single chair. The only things on the table were an empty bottle of mead and a book on Daedra. That in itself makes me a little nervous. Why would bandits have a book on Daedra?

Footsteps resounded off the stone walls. The only opening into the room was directly opposite of the door to the cage. I sat back eyeing the door carefully for whomever might walk through. A tinge of fear wiggled its way into my stomach as my eyes bored into the stone wall beyond the doorway. One of the bandits walked through the door. I didn't recognize him so he wasn't one of the ones outside. He was carrying a mug and half a loaf of bread. My stomach growled at the sight.

"Ah, looks like our new pet is finally awake. You been out a few days now. Reckon the poison on that arrow was a little too much for ya, little pet." His voice was thick with a Breton accent. He was much smaller than any of the other bandits I had seen, much less muscular. He was probably just the errand boy. He shoved the mug and the bread through the bars of the cage in front of me and strode out the door without a second glance. I eyed the food suspiciously but the pains in my stomach made the final decision for me. The small amount of food did not fill my stomach, but it chased away the pains of hunger for the time being.

The thought of the bandit who brought me my food made my blood boil. He called me pet. I am no one's pet. I am the Dragonborn for Talos' sake. I am not weak. I am not just some woman who they happened to capture due to weakness. I refuse to play that role.

With renewed determination I pull myself to my feet. My balance was unsteady at first but I found my footing as I made my way too the door. With a firm grasp on the bars, I shook the door with all my strength. The door didn't move. I eyed the lock carefully. It would not be difficult to pick if I had a way to do it. Turning around, my eyes poured over every crevice in the cage. There was nothing. Not even a stiff piece of straw I could use to even attempt to pick the lock. Defeated I leaned against the side of the cage. I'm truly helpless.

Fear began steadily growing in my stomach. This insufferable feeling of helplessness was not foreign to me. Not in the slightest. My eyes caught sight of a set of shackles firmly attached to the side of the cage solidified the sense of déjà vu. Memories I thought long suppressed began flooding into my mind. Images of bars and shackles and guards in red using me for their own selfish pleasure. All the pain I endured to make it here and I sat in a position similar to where I started.

My breath began to quicken as every single vivid memory pried its way from my subconscious into my current thoughts. I swore to myself to never be helpless again, to never be wearing rags similar to those I discarded quickly after making it into Skyrim. I swore to find strength and resolve in those painful memories and not submit to them. Tears began to well in my eyes despite me trying to will them away. I need to be in control, I always need to be in control. I will not be forced by the will of others.

The images frayed my fragile nerves and my breath came quicker and quicker. The world began to spin around me and I sank to the floor. My breathing nearly matched my heart rate and my vision began to blacken around the edges. I curled up tightly in a ball trying to calm myself down but it was beyond my reach of control and everything faded into black.


End file.
